Tempered
by euphoricunderworld
Summary: [Happy continuation of It's the Calming before the Storm] Dean and Cas have both done some stupid things and made mistakes. Can they figure it out in time to fix it?
1. temper

Temper [**tem**-**per]** [verb]

1. to moderate or mitigate: to temper justice with mercy

2. to soften or tone down

3. to bring to a proper, suitable, or desirable state by or as by blending or admixture

4. to moisten, mix, and work up into proper consistency, as clay or mortar

5. Metallurgy. to impart strength or toughness to (steel or cast iron) by heating and cooling.

* * *

Meredith was being particularly difficult, twisting and turning as Cas attempted to secure her in a diaper. The child was unruly just like her mother. He had finally stuck the little tabs down before she rolled and crawled toward the couch, where Cas knew she would pull herself up and start to walk – unsteadily like a college drunkard. He kept an eye on her as he pulled his vibrating phone out of his pocket, wondering why he would be getting a call so early on a Friday morning.

The name on the screen was Sam W and suddenly he had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. It seemed to be wrapped around his intestines, squeezing and jerking and making him feel as if he would vomit. "Hello?" His voice reflected none of his worry, and he hoped that it was unfounded. He had no idea why Sam would be calling him at all. Except… Dean had told him that Sam knew of their affair. Could he finally be truly upset about it enough to threaten to expose them if Cas did not? He had not thought that Sam would be so underhanded, though.

His own thoughts almost prevented him from actually hearing what the younger man was saying. He only caught the end. "… in the hospital."

"What?" It was there now, in his voice. The worry and the strain and the discomfort. Thankfully, he did not have to truly hide. Meg knew that Dean and he were friends and if he was in the hospital, she would understand that Cas was upset. He would just have to be sure that he did not appear too upset.

"Some guy found Dean passed out in his car outside a bar. It was running and he got a minor case of carbon monoxide poisoning, but they're really worried because they say his drinking is starting to destroy his body and he has to stop. And I really think you should come down here and I don't give a damn if you have plans to be out of the country in a few days." Sam had not seemed to stop in that sentence. He had said it all in one breath.

Cas had not even thought of going to Paris. It did not matter. Dean needed him and he would go to him. "I will be there, Sam. I just have to be sure that Meg is prepared to take Meredith with her on her own and I will be there."

"Good." There was no other sound after that, and Cas had to look at his phone to be sure that they were still connected. They were not. Well, that was fine. It saved Cas time in talking to Meg.

He grabbed his daughter, ignoring her struggling at being prevented her roaming and marched into the bathroom. Meg was showering, he could see her naked body through the lightly steamed glass of the shower door. When she saw him, she turned and then lifted an eyebrow. "You won't be gettin' lucky if you bring the kid, Clarence."

Cas had never figured out why she had insisted on calling him Clarence in all but the most formal or intimate moments. Right now, he had no time to think about it further. "I have to go to Lawrence." She had been his wife for more than three years and had dated for two years before that. She knew him well enough to know that it was important and so stepped out of the shower after a quick rinse to take the soap off. After she had wrapped herself in a robe, she held out her hands and he gratefully pushed Meredith into her hands.

"What's wrong?" She asked it while soothing the child in her arms who did not like the growing tension she could feel in the room. Children were sensitive to that sort of thing. When Cas left the room to pack an overnight bag, Meg followed.

"Dean is in the hospital. Sam said the doctors are worried and that I should get down there as soon as I can." He might have missed the look that crossed her face if he had not chosen that moment to turn with his clothes in his hands. Her eyes widened and then she turned to look intently at her daughter.

After a moment of silence in which Cas attempted to decode the action, she gave him a smile. "I know he's your best friend. Go. I can handle Meredith for a couple weeks with my parents. You should stay here."

He was so grateful that he decided the look did not matter. He kissed her cheek and shoved the clothes into his bag with no respect to what may wrinkle with such indelicate care. There was no memory of what he had packed, he just knew that it was enough for a few days. If he needed to stay longer, his family had washing machines he could make use of, or he could always come back to this house to get them.

The drive to Lawrence took both less time and more time than it had before. It took less in reality because he sped the entire way, narrowly avoiding traffic tickets he had no interest in through sheer luck. It took more time in his heart because no matter how badly he had ever wanted to be by his side, Dean had always been fine before. Oh, there were times he had been hung over and the time he had broken his wrist. He cut his mind away from the memory of why he had not actually come back while Dean was in his cast before his emotions could make the drive any less safe than it already was. The point was that Dean had always been fine, never on the brink of disaster with Cas so far away.

Once he entered the hospital, it was only the work of a short minute to get directions to where Dean was resting. He only got half way down the hall before a hand on his arm had him stopping in his tracks. He looked into the hazel eyes of Dean's younger brother, trying to tell him how important it was that he got to Dean with his eyes alone.

Sam was having none of it. He pulled Cas down the hall into a waiting room that was empty. Once there, he let go of his arm with enough force that Cas was tempted to rub it. He was confused as to why he was here, why Sam would call him down if it were not to see Dean.

Thankfully, the younger Winchester had no desire to keep him waiting. "You need to end it, Cas." When he continued to look confused, Sam gave a sigh and angrily wiped the hair out of his face. "This shit you're doing with Dean has to stop. Anyone with eyes in his head and more than a passing familiarity with the two of you can tell that you're tearing him apart."

Cas could not imagine ending things with Dean. They had tried before and neither of them had been able to withstand it. He did feel guilt crawling up his lungs, though. He knew that Dean drank more when he was not around and that after he had found out that Meg was pregnant had drank more often than he should, but Cas did not want to believe that his love for Dean could be behind all of the pain he felt.

Sam did not take his silence well. "The last few weeks, since we all told him that he was drinking too much – and I know you said it too, Cas – he stopped drinking at home. But Bobby said he was still coming in hung over all the time, and that he was pretty sure he saw Dean drinking from a flask in the bathroom." When Cas still did not speak, he threw his hands up.

"You don't get it, do you? This is what happens every damn time you don't come around for a while! You go away and he starts to kill himself slowly. Except it wasn't slow this time, Cas. If that guy hadn't gotten worried because he thought he remembered seeing Dean's car on for a while, Dean would be dead. He was so drunk that he fell asleep in a car that was started. He knows not to do that. But when you keep staying away, he stops caring. He barely wears a seat belt and doesn't care when people catch him drinking."

"You are proposing that I leave him when my absence is what does this to him?" Cas spoke quietly, hurt but angry as well. It was no business of Sam's what Cas and his brother did.

"You still don't get it! It's not your absence that does it. It's the wondering when you're coming back." Sam was angry with Cas in a way he never had been before. "You need to tell him you're not coming back and let him move on."

Cas had to pull himself back as the words struck him. "But I love him."

He was not happy with that response. "Then let him go. Or I'll make you."

Cas believed that he would. He felt his emotions running out of his face and body, standing limp with a slack face. "A threat?"

"Anything it has to be, Cas." A smile hung on his face, but there was no humor in it. It was angry and violent and intimidating. "Dean took care of me for long enough that I can take care of him now and do what's best for him. He's too fucking blind to tell that you aren't it."

He turned to go, but Cas felt words slipping past his lips before he was out of the door. "I could be."

Sam's shoulders stiffened. "Then why are you with Meg?" The words hit him in the stomach and soured.


	2. break

break [breyk] [verb]

1. to smash, split, or divide into parts violently; reduced to pieces or fragments

2. to infringe, ignore, or act contrary to (a law, rule, promise, etc.)

3. to dissolve or annul

4. to fracture a bone of

5. to lacerate; wound

Cas took a moment to calm himself. He had no answers for Sam's question that seemed legitimate, even to his own ears. Even if he had, though, Sam would not listen when his brother was lying in a hospital bed after almost dying.

The thought paralyzed him for a few more minutes, but he finally forced his feet to move again.

Dean looked small and tired in the bed, with dark marks beneath his eyes and the skin lax and pale. He was pale even compared to the white pillow beneath his head. It was such a change from his usually tan skin that Cas had to stop and take it in before he could really believe that this was his Dean.

There was a bleakness to his eyes that Cas had never noticed before. Had it always been there and he simply had not noticed? Or was this new and something he could blame himself for? "How do you feel?" He would not – could not – ask what he truly wanted to know with Sam's accusations hanging in the back of his mind.

"Like hell." The voice was raspy and deep and Cas really just wanted to lay in bed with him. He wanted to hold him to himself and protect him from any more pain. Sam's words still played in his ear, though, so instead, he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall by the door. It was probably the best decision he could have made, because Bobby and Ellen and Jo were probably here. Balthazar and Gabriel were sure to turn up soon, as well. They cared about Dean for his own sake, but also knew that they were very good friends, if not the true depth of their relationship. With all the witnesses, it would not do for Cas to crawl in bed and hold him. He would have to settle with hoping Dean could see in his eyes how worried he was.

He tried not to let the thought that he was keeping Dean a secret cause enough pain for Dean to see it.

It was not long before Dean refused to meet his eyes. Either Cas had let the pain show, or Dean had read the worry. Dean always became uncomfortable when he was the center of someone's worry or sadness. He had seen something. Cas just had to wonder if it had been what he wanted him to see or what he had tried to hide.

"Why do you drink so much, Dean?" He had not meant to ask. He had meant to keep the words tucked into his heart until such a time when Dean was not shortly to be surrounded by his family and laying on what could have been his death-bed. Really, any other time would have been a much better time to ask, but Cas's tongue had never really liked listening to him.

Now that the words were past his lips, he accomplished nothing by regretting them. Instead, he realized that he truly wanted to know the answer. He had to know if this could truly be placed at his feet.

Dean's eyes snapped back to his and suddenly he understood what Dean meant when he said that Cas had a laser stare. Cas could see anger building in his eyes while it seemed like he was reading his soul. "Because you leave and you come back whenever you feel like it, Cas. Never when I want you to. Because I can't get you out of my head even when I want to. Because I expect to wake up with you even when I know you haven't been around in weeks. Because I don't know how to handle the idea that you might not come back. Because I wonder when you're going to decide you're too righteous for this and just stay with Meg. Because she gave you a chance to be a father completely different than yours. Because I'm a fuck up. Take your pick."

Cas wanted to refute the words because he always came back. He always thought of Dean, he always had a moment of disorientation when Meg and him were in bed, because she was soft where Dean was hard.

But Sam had been right. This was his fault.

He swallowed and gave a small nod, not trusting the tightness in his throat to emit any word correctly or strongly. He walked to the bed and placed a kiss on Dean's forehead, attempting to ignore the way he tensed and jerked away like his lips were a brand. He had never been good at ignoring Dean, though.

"Go into rehab, Dean. Please." He whispered.

He could not look him in the eye as he left the room.

Sam was stepping off the elevator as Cas approached them. "Let me know what Dean decides. I will pay for it." He only had a split second to see the look of confusion on his face before the elevator doors shut with a finality he would not have expected from such familiar and commonplace mechanics.

He aimlessly drove around Lawrence, details lost to him as he went over his day. Perhaps with repetition it would begin to make sense.

Something about Meg had bothered him this morning, but he had not wanted to devote any time to thinking about it. He would have done so now, but his mind refused to listen to reason. Instead, his interactions with the Winchester brothers dominated his thoughts.

A patch of ice almost sent him into the ditch. It proved that he needed to stop driving before he wound up in the bed next to Dean. With the way that he had left things, it would be an awkward meeting and not at all conducive to healing. Mentally or physically.

Cas could not help the stilted chuckle that escaped his lips when he realized he had subconsciously decided to drive himself to Dean's house.


	3. Reminisce

reminisce [rem-uh-nis] [verb] to recall past experiences, events, etc.

The house was quiet in a way he had never experienced before. If Dean was there, he always played music or had the television on. Or, if he was trying to be quiet as when Cas slept, it was still possible to hear footsteps and humming, or the slap of cards on the table. He had been alone in the house before, of course, but something was different this time. Perhaps it was only the fact that inside his head was loud and there was nothing outside of it to balance it. Whatever it was, it felt wrong and brought home to him how much worse the situation could have been.

His knees were abruptly weak and shaky. He lowered himself to the couch, not even bothering to remove his shoes as he knew that Dean preferred. Sam's words reverberated in his head. 'Then why are you with Meg?'

Why on earth would he have ever thought this situation could continue indefinitely? This arrangement hurt everyone, even Cas – though to a lesser degree. He knew that it was wrong. He would have to make a decision no matter how painful it might be to him personally. Everyone involved deserved that much from him. He had had his way for long enough.

Meg or Dean? Did he deserve to have either? He chose not to add Meredith into the equation because she would complicate matters. He would have to make his decision and then worry about how it affected her.

Attempting to make a decision inevitably led to comparing his two lovers.

Meg was a privileged girl. She had been raised in a gated community in Main, an only child of a CEO and his beautiful wife. College for her had been a way to make friends and memories. There was no reason for her to have chosen Kansas University when there had been others closer to her, especially when money was not a concern. She had just wanted a chance to be away from her family and its influence.

She had found fashion design as an accident, but her passion for it let her make up all the time she had messed around. Meg had graduated on time with excellent connections she had forged for herself.

Her accomplishments were not what he was supposed to be thinking of, though.

They had met at a fellow student's party, an artist. Cas had been there with his sometimes fling when a loud mouthed girl with impeccable taste had caught his eye. Within two weeks, he was forgetting what it had felt like to wake up alone. And he had stopped thinking about Dean so much, so he had been sure that she was perfect. Marriage had seemed like a wonderful idea after two years. He knew that he loved her and she loved him. What more could they need?

There were tensions between them, of course. She tended to treat Cas like a beloved pet, indulgent and caring but unimpressed. Cas's responsibilities were only respected when none of hers conflicted with them. His wants were quieted in view of hers.

Cas knew he could change things, though. He was only treated this way because he allowed it. If he told Meg that her actions bothered him, she would make an effort to change.

She had given him his daughter as well, though he pushed the thought from his mind. How could he be a good father if he could not make a decision on his own?

However, Meredith brought his thoughts to times when he had already made this decision.

The first was at his wedding because of course he would be faithful to his wife. Cas had never been a cheater.

The second was a longer process that began over Christmas of 2014. He had looked around at Meg and her family and realized he did not fit. He was an orphan that had worked to get into college, competing against all the other students to win a scholarship that would mean he only had to work one job while he studied.

Of course, once he realized he did not fit, he began to wonder where he would.

Dean had come to mind, but he had thought that it might not be with him, either. Cas had believed at the time that he would have only gotten in Dean's way. It was before Cas had learned to read him. He had been so blinded by high school fantasies and lust and love that he could not see that Dean was showing he loved him back in every way Cas never expected.

Cas had stayed away, thinking. Finally, though, he had realized that he could not very well make an informed decision when he was nowhere near Dean. All the time away had just convinced him that even if he did not fit with Dean, we would rather not fit with him around.

As if the idea had opened his mind, Cas could read Dean. He could see the care and want in the playfulness of the water fight. The way he had allowed Cas to worry over his broken wrist and how he had had the silliest smile he tried to hide when Cas had drawn a heart over his wrist.

He had dragged himself out of the house that Sunday, even daring to voice his love to Dean. It had been cowardly for him to leave so quickly afterward, but he had thought he would be back by the next day. He just had to go home long enough to tell Meg that he was leaving, after all.

Except, every time he got used to the way things were, life had a way of changing things on him. In high school, three years of pining had finally borne fruit and Dean was under him, accepting his kisses and begging for touch. Then, the exactly wrong song had played and Dean stopped. In college, he had started to get into casual sex and found that he enjoyed it when he met Meg, and she changed it all again. He was in love with Meg and then he had met Dean again. He was in love with Dean and was prepared to leave his wife for him. And his wife told him she was pregnant.

His decision had collapsed beneath the weight of the words. His father had run out on his mother almost before she knew that he would exist. Cas would never be like his father, and so he knew he had to stay.

For weeks, he had tried to figure out how to tell Dean. He had cancelled a weekend together, a completely made up excuse of a coworker having the flu. He had decided that telling him in person was the best way to do it but had lost his nerve.

When he finally got himself to go, he had tried to wait for the perfect time. For some reason, he had thought that the opportunity to tell his lover that his wife was pregnant would just present itself during that time. Considering they took pains to never speak of Meg, he had no idea where this thought came from him.

And then Dean had found the sonogram and it went from finding the perfect time to never having told him. He had not been hurt by the anger Dean had harbored because he understood where it came from. Cas had deserved it.


	4. perception

perception [per-sep-shuhn] [noun] 1. the act or faculty of perceiving, or apprehending by means of the senses or of the mind; cognition, understanding 2. immediate or intuitive recognition or appreciation, as of moral, psychological, or aesthetic qualities; insight, intuition, discernment 3. the result or product of perceiving, as distinguished from the act of perceiving; percept. 4. Psychology. A single unified awareness derived from sensory processes while a stimulus is present

This situation was not going to be resolved within a few hours, even with his entire brain dedicated to unsnarling it. As such, Cas took it upon himself to be productive. Even if Dean decided not to go into rehab, the least he could do would be to make it slightly harder for him to get his liquor when he got home. He did not think that Sam would let him be unsupervised long enough for him to stop at a liquor store, let alone a bar. That would mean what he already had would have to be enough – but Cas intended him to have nothing.

Cas had listened when Dean talked, though he was not sure how much the other man would believe the statement. There were times he was sure Dean was only talking to hear something and because if he talked then he would not have to think that Cas was only there for a few days.

And so he had told Cas all sorts of details, details that he would not forget.

His infatuation with a girl in high school, because she never cared about what others thought. His confusion over his attraction for Cas. Waking up to his father passed out in the bathroom or the kitchen or anywhere he should not have been. The places his father used to hide liquor, thinking that neither Sam nor Dean would know or see.

And so he wondered if Dean would think to use the same places to hide his own, without even realizing that Cas would know.

There was half a fifth tucked behind Cas's things in the closet. A full one in the coat closet. A half-pint was tucked into a pair of boots that Dean never wore. There was a pint pressed between the box spring and the mattress on Cas's side of the bed. Another fifth was under the sink in the bathroom, and another with only a few sips left under the kitchen sink.

He dumped them all with no remorse whatsoever. The smell permeated the air in the kitchen and he wondered why it smelled like home.

He was lost in the thought when there was a buzzing coming from the table and he realized he had left his phone there. The name was Sam W and he felt his stomach clench all over again. Please, do not let it be something bad, he prayed. "Sam."

A beat of silence. "Did you mean it when you said you'd pay for it?"

"Of course. Has he agreed?" He wanted Dean to go to rehab. After that… Cas had no idea. At least afterwards, Dean would be healthy, though. He could figure himself out if he knew that Dean was not in danger of dying.

"Yeah." There was silence on the other end again. Sam must be very unhappy with having to talk to Cas so soon. "We found a place that said they'd take him. I'll send the information. We've already set it up to take him in tomorrow. He'll be gone for a few weeks."

Cas drew a breath. He had a few weeks to figure his own head out. "I will set up the payments with them." There were no goodbyes, Sam just hung up. Cas stared at his phone, wondering if there was ever going to be a time that Sam was no longer angry with him. The chances of it being before he either left Dean or stayed with only him were slim, and he had no idea if leaving Meg for Dean would even help with how Sam felt. He had no intention of letting that actually affect his decision, however. He would decide and he would live with the consequences, not Sam.

There was nothing else for him to do here, so Cas left after calling the rehab facility that Sam had texted to his phone.

The drive back to his house felt surreal, but he could not quite figure out why.

When he walked in, Meg was standing in the living room holding Meredith and looking out the window. She turned to him and gave him a smile that made Cas question when they had stopped lighting up the room. Had it been when he started with Dean? Had he just not noticed because he was always trying to figure out when he would next be able to see him?

He gave her a smile, though, and walked into the kitchen. He wanted a cup of coffee.

The machine was halfway through the pot, refusing to quicken its pace despite his glaring, when Meg came and wrapped her arms around his waist. Distractedly, he patted her hand over his stomach. "I have agreed to pay for Dean to go into rehab." It was going to come out of the money that was his, but it was still a habit to let Meg know when he was spending his money on anything expensive.

"Oh. Is he addicted to something?" Meg spoke into his back.

"He has had a problem with his alcohol consumption for quite a while." He had had to think about it, because he had been sure she would know. She never came to Lawrence, though. She had not seen Dean since before they were married. The only things that she knew about him were what Cas could find about their weekends together that were innocent enough for her to know.

"Guess it's good you're such a helpful fella, then." He could feel her smile, but he was suddenly uneasy.

"Yes, I guess so." The coffee had finished, but he made no move to grab a mug. He had to figure out why he had such an odd feeling.

They stood like that for a few minutes, the smell of coffee in the air and Meg's arms around him. Finally, the silence was broken. "Did he finally ask you to leave me?"

Cas spun around and took a step back. What had she said? "What?"

"I've been wondering if he would." Meg rolled her eyes when he still looked confused. "Next time you start an affair, don't leave your phone out where anyone can look at it and don't come back with bruises on the back of your hips."

Cas's mind was reeling as Meg left to go grab Meredith, who had chosen that moment to start crying.


	5. portent

portent [pawr-tent] [noun]  
1. an indication or omen of something about to happen, especially something momentous.  
2. Threatening or disquieting significance  
3. a prodigy or marvel

That night, he slept on the couch. He could not bear the thought of being near her, though he could not figure out why. Her knowing changed nothing about what he had done. It just lent a different complexion to it all. Cas was pretty sure it just made him more disgusted with himself.

When he woke, he reheated the pot of coffee he had made before her stunning comment. It tasted stale and stagnant, but he figured he deserved it. The taste just coated his tongue and brought his mind from things that were so hard to contemplate.

She gave him odd looks but refrained from speaking to him until Meredith was asleep for her nap. Then, she found him in the living room, staring into space and trying to reorganize his life so that it made sense again.

"Does my knowing really change anything? You still had an affair, babe." Her voice was exasperated. Cas felt chills roll up his spine because he had no answer.

His silence seemed to be an invitation to speak, because she filled it with her words and explanations. "You know, I was hurt at first. I felt inadequate because we weren't even married and you were looking elsewhere. But I talked to Balthazar and apparently Dean was your first love." She gave a dry chuckle. "I remember the things I did when I was with my first boyfriend."

Cas was looking at her now, watching the emotions cross her face. There was hurt there, but wistfulness and resignation as well. It was too complicated to sort out, so instead he just listened. "God, I almost threw away everything to be with him. I finally figured out he wanted my money more than he wanted me, and I thought that would be what happened with Dean. He'd want your money and you wouldn't give it because that isn't who you are, and then it would end and we could be fine."

"It didn't happen, though. You kept going back to him and he never seemed to ask you anything that broke you." She drew a shaky breath in then gave him a watery smile. "You came back to me at the end of the weekend, though. And so I decided that we just didn't have the traditional marriage. You had your lover and I had you. I could live with it."

Cas wanted to make her feel better, but he had no idea how to go about doing it. What could he say?

"You guys had a fight or something right after I found out I was pregnant. I was so happy at first, because I knew that you were with just me." She nodded and then smiled. It was odd, because it looked like a genuine one, even if there was no happiness in it. " But you weren't. Cas, you weren't just mine after you saw him when the car broke down. You'd get a weird look in your eye and look out the window. And even when you weren't talking, you weren't talking to me, either. That was when I realized that I got just a bit of you or none at all."

He clenched his jaw because this was the last thing he really needed at this moment. Dean was in the hospital and possibly hated him; the person that Dean cared about the most – Sam – hated him. And now his wife was telling him that he had never really been hers. But Meg kept talking.

"That's why I pushed you to go to that party. I figured Dean would be there and I'd rather have you happy than not. And if I had to wait for you to visit him for the weekend to be happy, I'd deal with it. But I'm okay now. I've realized that I wasn't meant to have you forever. Just for a little bit."

"What are you talking about?" He had finally understood enough that his voice came back to him.

She came over and kissed the end of his nose. There was finality in it, but he could detect very little sadness in her actions. "We'll be fine, Castiel. We won't be together, but we'll be fine."

"You're divorcing me?" He had not even thought of the possibility since Meredith had existed. How could Meg be thinking that? "What about Meredith?"

"We don't belong together anymore, but that doesn't mean we can't both be parents." She rolled her eyes and used the smile that he had not seen in a long time. It was affectionate, but it was the same one she showed to her friends. It was not until that moment that he realized he had not seen the one that had been reserved for him since Meredith was born. "It's not like I wouldn't let you be her dad."

When he continued to look hurt, she sat down next to him and laid her arm across his shoulders. "Clarence, we're in it for the long haul when it comes to her. But I don't see the point in keeping you around when your mind is always with him. So we didn't work out, so what? I can move on and so can you. You can be with him and you can still have Meredith. We can work out the exact details later, but I want you to be happy. I don't even feel bad that it isn't with me anymore."

It was her turn to look confused when tears started rolling down his cheeks. "What's wrong, love?"

He did not want the words to roll off his tongue. He wanted to keep them inside of him because now was surely not the time. But Meg was comfortable and he knew her, and this conversation had been enough for him to finally stop thinking of her as his wife. Meg had been his friend, though, and maybe she was now.

It spilled out of him, the whole story. Dean's accident and the way that Sam had talked to him. What Dean had said. His own guilt over the cheating and the accident. His fear that it would not matter that they were divorcing, because Dean would surely not want him now.

When it faded to silence afterwards, Meg drew him tighter against his side. "You sure got a pickle there, Clarence."


	6. stale mate

stale mate [steyl-meyt] [noun] 1. Chess. a position of pieces in which a player cannot move any piece except the king and cannot move the king without putting it in check 2. any position or situation in which no action can be taken or progress made; deadlock

Balthazar had somehow convinced him to get roaring drunk. Cas had been there for it and still was unsure how it had happened. He just knew that Balthazar was smirking at him as he forced himself to eat an omelet the morning after. His stomach was queasy with leftover alcohol and eggs and guilt. Dean was in rehab for drinking and Cas had gone out to get drunk. Something was wrong with that, but he was trying not to dwell.

Finally, with half of the omelet forced down his throat, he got fed up. "Is there something I can do for you?"

Balthazar's smile just got bigger as he held his coffee. Cas could feel impending doom in the air, and did his best to prepare himself for it. "Did you know that you tend to talk a lot when you're drunk?"

Doom had taken a few steps before running and jumping into his lap. There were few things that could put that tone and that delighted expression on Balthazar. "I'm sure that many people talk excessively when they drink. I think whatever I said should probably be put down to being incapacitated and forgotten."

"You see, I don't think I'll be doing that." He leaned back in his chair and braced his hands behind his head. He looked far too gleeful for Cas. "You told me why you were getting a divorce."

Cas felt his stomach turn to lead and fall to his toes. From the way that the words had slipped out of his mouth, he knew that he had not said what he had said before. When he had first shown up two weeks ago, he had told him that Meg wanted to travel more and Cas wanted to stay home and that being separated would be silly so they had decided to divorce. It was flimsy, but he knew that Balthazar would not ask too many questions because it was not outside of Meg's character to do things in that way.

Apparently, Balthazar had given him enough time to stew in his fear because he spoke again. "How did you manage to keep an affair secret from me for so long?" He gave Cas a look of respect. "You, cousin of mine, are much cleverer than I gave you credit for." A cheers gesture was made with the coffee cup and Cas felt his face heat.

"An affair is secret by nature, Balthazar. If I had told you, there was no telling how many people would have known at the end of the day." He thought he did well at keeping his calm, but when he looked down his hands were shaking. He tucked them under the table so that Balthazar would not see.

"Ah, but now it's not a secret. I know, and you're wife knows. Apparently, she's always known." Trust him to think of it like a great coup. He did not understand that Cas was a horrible person and that he was guilty of sin. "It's a little sweet that she let you go so you could go to him. So tell me why you're here instead of wrapped around that man in his house."

Cas clenched his jaw for a few seconds before he went limp. He would make sure he talked and then he would try to solve the problem. Cas was not sure that there was a solution, but there was no use to trying to evade the conversation. Balthazar was like a dog with a scent when he thought he could help in a situation. Or if he thought that it would be fun to screw it up more.

He knew that Balthazar would want to fix this one, though. He loved Cas and had proven it many times.

With his head cushioned on his arm and his other one idly rolling his glass of orange juice around the table, he looked over Balthazar's shoulder. The words rolled out of him – the entire relationship with Dean, the fight when Meg had gotten pregnant, the accident, the rehab, and the accusations that Sam had spat at him. Speaking them made him realize exactly how impossible it would be to make this problem go away. It was hopeless to think that anything would start going well for him at this point.

When it was finally out, he was not prepared for what Balthazar said. "Touching story, love, but what's the point?"

Cas would not admit it, but he was sure that he was doing a fantastic impression of a fish. "What do you mean what's the point? Did you miss everything I just said? Dean could not possibly want me now, and even if he did, Sam would not allow it."

A few slow blinks from Balthazar before he opened his mouth. He closed it and opened it, over and over again. Finally, swallowed the last of his coffee and shook his head. "First off, you realize you just carried on an affair for over two years, right? Obviously you aren't too caught up in what people allow." When Cas would have interrupted, because Dean was a special circumstance and he would not have done that with just anyone, Balthazar held up his hand to stop him. "Second, you don't know Sam very well. If Dean had died, sure, he would have hated you. But he told you what he thought of you. You don't think that maybe it was an ultimatum?"

Cas could only look confused. What could Sam be giving him an ultimatum about?

"Pity this has to be so early in the morning. I could use a bourbon." He looked to his liquor cabinet, but contented himself with pouring another cup of coffee. Cas was not sure that he could handle another person that drank so inappropriately, so he was thankful. "I know Sam pretty well. He likes to hang out with Gabriel and I." He pulled a look at Gabriel's name, but did not comment on how that meant he was surely defective. "If Sam truly hated you, he would not have contacted you about Dean. He probably would have told Dean that you chose to go on with your vacation and found some way to make you stop contacting him. He didn't, though."

He was getting irritated, but Cas was not sure what he was supposed to be grasping. "For God's sake, man. He was telling you to pick and stick to your decision. Now you picked. Stick to it. Call Dean. Tell him."

Cas just nodded and walked to the bedroom he was staying in. He tried to ignore the muttered things that Balthazar was saying into his coffee, but he caught the words 'imbecile' and 'stupid' and figured it was better if he said nothing back.

Should he really call Dean?


	7. apprehensive

apprehensive [ap-ri-hen-siv] [adjective]

1. uneasy or fearful about something that might happen  
2. quick to learn or understand  
3. perceptive; discerning

Cas lay on the bed, wondering what he should do. If he called Dean, he could decide not to answer. Or he could still be in rehab and be unable to answer. Then Cas could call him back, but what if it was him deciding not to answer? Then he would just look desperate and would probably just make Dean feel worse.

And even if he did call him and he answered, what would he say? 'I love you and Meg divorced me, come to bed?' It seemed quite inappropriate, really.

In the end, he decided that his best choice was to contact the other Winchester, so he sent a text.

Has Dean been released from rehab, yet?

He waited for a response, but one did not come until he was stepping into clean clothes, his skin still damp from his shower. His answer did not come in the manner he had expected though, because his phone was ringing instead of just giving the beep that would have meant a text.

"Hello?" He could not help but wonder what would be said to him.

"Are you done screwing around?" Sam's voice was clipped and quiet, making Cas wonder if he was afraid of being overheard.

"If you mean have I decided that Dean was most important, yes. Meg and I have already filed the papers and it should be final soon, since neither of us is fighting it." He had not realized it would be that easy, really. He had thought it would be a long, drawn out process that was designed to make them hate each other. Instead, they worked out the details of how to split up their assets and filed. The only thing that was not decided was time with Meredith, but that was because Meg had her out of the country at the moment.

He could hear breathing on the other end, though it gave him no hints as to what he was feeling. "So you left Meg? You're not married anymore?"  
Cas did not feel that Sam needed to know the exact details, only Dean needed those. "We are divorcing, yes. I will not be returning to her for anything more than to see my daughter."

A sigh. "Dean's sleeping right now. We brought him here instead of letting him go home. He only got out a few days ago, but he wants to go home. Jess is in the middle of her residency, and I've had too much to do to go over and clean out his house. Would you go make sure there isn't any alcohol for him to get to? He's going home tomorrow after I get out of my two o clock class." He wondered if that was Sam's way of letting him decide if he'd be there for Dean to meet. Perhaps it was also his way of showing that he did not actually hate Cas.

He gave a nod, though the other man could not see it. "I will do so now."

"Thanks, Cas. For everything." The line went dead before he could ask what he meant by that. What had he done besides clean out the house that Sam would be thanking him for? As far as he was concerned, all he had done was hurt his brother.

It did not really need to be thought about, though, so Cas just continued pulling on his clothes and getting ready to leave.

The January cold had infiltrated Dean's home. It felt as if the temperature was just warm enough that he would not see his breath, but cold enough that he was loath to remove his coat. He forced himself to do so, however, because it was far too bulky to really help him.

He turned up the heat and then started in the kitchen. There were dishes in the sink with unidentifiable bits of food stuck to them. With a shake of his head, he turned to the fridge. Inside, everything was a mess. Three weeks had not been kind to the milk and other foods. He dumped them while trying not to gag. Dean would be very unhappy if he were to come home and there were such awful things waiting for his attention. Cas started soaking the salvageable dishes and then began his hunt.

Under the sink there were three bottles of whiskey. He dumped them in the empty sink and then threw the bottles in the trash. He went through the house one room at a time, finding seven fifths and four pints, and even a half pint tucked under the mattress. In Dean's office, he was tempted to ignore the closet, because he had never seen Dean even open it. But for all he knew, Dean had a laundry basket of liquor in it, so he had to look.

Shoe boxes filled it. Where on earth had Dean gotten so many shoe boxes?

He wanted to open them, because he wanted to know what was inside of them, what Dean would consider worth keeping. Instead, he settled on picking them up and giving gentle shakes. Only one felt as if there could be any liquor in it, but when he opened them, inside was just a ripped up shirt and the cast from Dean's wrist.

When he looked at the shirt, he remembered how it had gotten ripped. Dean had done it in a fit, yanking on it in rage when Cas had said something he should not have. He had broken down almost as soon as he realized what he had done.

Cas could not help but to blink at what he had found. These were Dean's memories. They probably were not all involved with Cas, they could not be with how many boxes there were. Cas was not that important. However, it was too personal. He could not bring himself to look any closer, only moving them out to make sure there was nothing hidden behind them, then tucking them back in the way he had found them.

The house was free of alcohol now, so he set about cleaning. He was too nervous to go back to Balthazar's, anyway. Would he still be here when Dean came home? Would Dean be happy? The thoughts lent a frantic energy to everything.


	8. inchoate

inchoate [in-koh-it] [adjective]  
1. not yet completed or fully developed; rudimentary  
2. just begun; incipient  
3. not organized; lacking order

The house was almost spotless by the time Cas chose to leave. He had vacuumed, changed the sheets on Dean's bed, done laundry, and washed the dishes. Currently, Dean had next to nothing in his refrigerator or in his cupboards and there were dishes drying on the counter.

While he lost himself in the domestic chores, Cas had decided that he wanted to be there when Dean returned. Though, he thought that staying the night to wait for him would be presuming too much. So, as he looked up the house, he resolved to be here by two thirty the next afternoon.

That night, he was too uncomfortable to sleep. First he was too hot and so stripped down to bare skin. Then he was cold and had to wrestle the blankets back up onto the bed. Then, he was still unused to the bed at Balthazar's and tossed and turned.

None of these things were true, really. He kept himself away wondering what kind of reaction Dean would give him. Would he be happy to see Cas or would he be angry still? Something in between?

He knew it would drive him crazy, but he could not stop his brain from worrying at the problem like a dog with a bone.

When dawn came, he had only managed to doze for an hour or two. Tiredness dragged at his bones until he drank a sugary cup of coffee. Caffeine on his empty stomach made it feel acidic and touchy, but it got him through a trip to the grocery store. After that, his stomach was still sour, but he knew it was no longer the coffee's fault.

Generosity was not what made him shop for Dean, nor was it an attempt to buy back his favor. Fear was his motivating factor. If he went to the grocery store, Dean would not have to and would not be tempted to make a dash through the alcohol aisle. As Cas had not spoken to him, he had no idea how Dean was taking his newfound sobriety. Though, he found no reason to tempt him unduly so quickly.

He arrived back at Dean's house at quarter after two and put the groceries away in record time. Nervousness was pushing him to move quicker, faster.

He chose to wait on the couch, wiping his sweaty palms on his jean clad thighs. While there, he had no choice but to think.

Sam's class was most likely an hour long, so it would be three before he was out of it. Then, he would have to drive from campus back to his home and get Dean and his things. That could take anywhere between twenty minutes and an hour, depending on how much Dean did to get ready beforehand. They would then have to make the ten minute drive to Dean's home, where Cas would be waiting. Three thirty would be the earliest they would arrive, and Cas could not decipher how he felt when he realized that the clock read 2:43 PM.

Doubt crept into his mind. His car was in the driveway and Dean would surely see it. Would he want to come in when he knew Cas was waiting for him? Would he make Sam come in to tell him to leave? Would he make Sam come in with him to make it uncomfortable enough for him to leave? Would he come in on his own and make Cas leave? Should he go park his car down the road so Dean did not immediately see it? That seemed too underhanded, though.

Abruptly, all of his thoughts became pointless, because the door was unlocking.

Dean entered, not looking at Cas as he walked past him to his bedroom. Cas tried not to let it rip his heart out, but he was sure that Sam could see that it had where he stood at the door. Sam gave an apologetic smile and then shrugged. "Class was canceled."

As the bathroom door shut behind Dean, Sam winced. "He's been complaining about the water pressure at the clinic and at my house the entire time he's been home. I'm sorry. I would have texted you. He didn't look happy to see your car." He looked like a kicked puppy and Cas had a hard time reconciling the image in front of him with the fuming brother he had encountered in the hospital. "Maybe it's just because you won't let him drink?" He did not sound convinced.

Cas sighed. "It's fine, Sam. Thank you for … You can leave if you would like. This is bound to be uncomfortable and you are not technically a part of it." Sam looked uncomfortable, but did leave shortly after hearing the shower turn on.

Dean had always been a fan of long showers, and so long with inadequate water pressure had apparently only increased the amount of time he was willing to spend in one. There was nothing he could do but sit on the couch and feel his stomach in knots, though. Finally, the water shut off and a few minutes later the door unlatched.

Cas wanted to go to him, put his hands on as many body parts he could reach and reassure himself that Dean really was okay. He would not, of course, but it did nothing to stop the desire.

Finally, hair spiked up from a careless hand and skin bare except for a pair of pajama pants, Dean walked into the living room. He ducked his head in the refrigerator and came out holding a can of pop. Then, he leaned against his dining room table, looking at Cas.

They were silent for long moments. Cas just kept staring at Dean, wondering what had been going through his mind any of the times he had not made Dean claim him. How could he have thought he would be happy with Meg when so much of his soul was wrapped inside of this man that could withstand hell and still look at ease?

The silence had stretched to the point that Cas was almost ready to demand something, anything from Dean when Dean finally spoke. "I'm not really ready to deal with this, Cas."

He gave a nod, because he knew how crazy it had been to expect him to be ready so quickly. It did not stop the empty feeling from spreading through his abdomen.

"I don't know when I will be. But I'll call you." Dean gave a shrug and would not look him in the eye.

An icy shiver worked its way down his back, but he withstood it. He gave a nod and a small smile. "Please do. Even if –" He stopped himself. The thought was selfish and wrong and had no business in a conversation with Dean. He could not tell him even if it is just to say that he need not wait. Dean needed to know that he would always wait. "Even if it's twenty years from now. I'll be sure you always have my number." He nodded again and then grabbed his coat. As he pulled his keys out of the pocket, he could not help but look at the key ring. He took long enough to pull Dean's off of it, and lay it on the table. The heat of Dean next to him did crazy things to his heartbeat, but he kept himself in check long enough to get back to Balthazar's, where he locked himself in the room he was staying in, refusing to come out no matter how many knocks on the door.


	9. makeshift

makeshift [meyk-shift] [noun]  
a temporary expedient or substitute

Over the next few days, Cas found a new librarian job at the local college. It did not pay much, but Meg had insisted that he take quite a large sum of money in the divorce. She had told him that this way he could find a job that allowed him to take Meredith every other weekend without making it so that he did not have enough money to pay any bills.

A week after starting this job, he put a deposit down on an apartment. Oddly, it was in the same complex as Dean's old apartment, just a few turns away. Once he had settled in with newly bought second hand furniture and appliances gifted to him by Balthazar and Gabriel, he realized he had to go shopping.

The grocery store was rather boring for him, as he had to actually figure out what he wanted to eat. Shopping for Dean had been easy in comparison, because he knew what Dean liked. Himself? He was content with just a bag of pizza rolls and some Kool-Aid. Of course, he also had to be sure that he had the things that Meredith would need, since he was going to get her next weekend. As a result, his cart was full of too many boxed dinners and diapers and baby food.

He was looking down aisles when he saw him, right next to the frozen vegetables. Dean had gained some weight, but only enough that his cheeks no longer looked so hollow. Cas couldn't help checking out his cart, but there was no alcohol to be seen. A small sigh of relief escaped his mouth before he could help it, and Dean looked up.

They maintained eye contact, neither speaking, for what felt like forever even though logically, Cas knew it could not have been longer than a minute. Dean looked away first and continued his shopping, adding a bag of frozen broccoli to his cart before turning around the corner.

Cas was not sure what he had been hoping for, but he was sure it was something that more than eye contact. However, if that was what he was going to get, it was better than Dean flipping him off. He would take it.

He could not help thinking of it through the week and through his drive to pick up Meredith. When he got to the house, Meg already had her ready to go, but she took one look at his face and told him to sit down.

"How have things been?" She seemed to actually care and Cas realized how lucky he was. This was his ex-wife. She could be bitter and refuse to talk to him about anything that was not his daughter, and yet here she was, wanting to know about his life and what was bothering him.

"I have a job and an apartment, and Dean won't speak to me." Cas could do nothing but blink because how could that be fixed?

"Did he tell you why he won't talk to you? Or did it just happen?"

"He said that he was not ready to deal with this and that he did not know when he would be. Then he told me he would call me." Cas shrugged.

"Then, patience, young padawan." Meg smiled. "He'll come around. He wouldn't have stuck around the whole time if he didn't want you."

"I can only hope." The dejected tone in his words was accidental, but Meg picked up on it.

"You can do more than that. First off, you can make sure that waiting for him isn't your whole life. I'm not saying go out and bang some strangers, but make friends. Second, act like you're still his friend. Don't start a conversation or anything, he would probably get pissed, but next time you see him at the store, do more than stare at him." Cas was not sure of the integrity of that plan, but he nodded. Meg let him pack up their daughter after that and he got lost in her presence for the weekend.

He saw Dean at the grocery store a few times over the next few weeks, and he took Meg's advice and nodded to him before going about his business. The first few times, Dean had looked confused and then ignored him. After that, though, he started nodding back.

Two months had gone by since Dean had severed contact, and Cas had still done next to nothing about the first part of Meg's advice. He had gone out a few times with some of the other librarians, but he still only talked to Balthazar and Gabriel, and occasionally Meg.

Cas had just gotten home from dropping Meredith off and was making himself dinner – a can of soup and buttered bread – when his phone rang. The song that came from it made his heart race because he had not heard it in so long. "Dean?" Thankfully, his voice did not crack.

"Yeah, it's me." His voice sounded strained and Cas immediately thought the worst.

"Do you need something? I can come to you if you need." Even before the accident, he had been unable to take Dean in pain and now it was even worse.

"No, I – I can't take you in person right now." He still was not speaking normally, though it was better than before. "I'm sitting on my kitchen floor and I feel like drinking. So, either convince me to, or not to." Before Cas knew what to say he gave a small laugh. "No pressure."

"Is there anything specific that would help you?" The return of a Dean that joked with him should have comforted him, but instead it put him on edge.

"No, just talk."

Cas did. "My apartment has the same leak that yours did, under the bathroom sink. It is the same complex, so I should not be surprised. I do have nicer carpet, though." He was expecting to keep talking about minute details until Dean was centered again, but he did not get that far.

"You and Meg moved to Lawrence? Is that why I keep seeing you at the store?" His tone was genuine, which only served to make Cas more confused.

"Has no one told you?" He could not believe that of everyone that knew, no one had mentioned anything to Dean.

"No." He gave another laugh, but it held more humor than the one before. "I have been pretty much screaming at anyone that mentions you, though. Might have something to do with it."

Cas knew he could not let on how much that hurt, so he pushed it aside and explained. "It is a complicated story, but my divorce was finalized last week. I've been living in Lawrence since a few days after.." He did not want to finish the sentence, but Dean would know what he was referencing.

"You're not with her?" The hesitant voice on the phone only had the most superficial of qualities in common with Dean. It made Cas soften in a way he had not expected to.

"No." The word was breathed across the line instead of spoken.

"I have to go." His voice was stronger now, but Cas had no idea what it meant.

"Did I convince you not to drink?" He needed to know that he had not somehow screwed this up even more.

He heard a breath pulled in, and then an answer. "Yeah."

He did not believe him, though. "Would you tell me if I had not?"

A longer silence, so long that Cas wondered if they were still connected. Finally, though, he heard the answer, right before Dean hung up. "Yeah."


	10. turbulence

turbulence [tur-byuh-luhns] [noun]  
1. the quality or state of being turbulent; violent disorder or commotion  
2. Hydraulics. the haphazard secondary motion caused by eddies within a moving fluid  
3. Meteorology. irregular motion of the atmosphere, as that indicated by gusts and lulls in the wind

As Cas was pulling on his clothes for work the next morning, his phone gave a short chirp. He opened the text and was surprised to find that it was from Sam and actually something good, if somewhat confusing.

I don't know what you did, but whatever it was, thanks.

He finally figured out how to reply right before he left.

You're welcome? I do not know what I did, either. Why are you thanking me?

After he got to work, he was distracted. His conversation with Dean plagued his mind and he knew there must be some connection between it and the text from Sam this morning, but he could not decipher what it was. Why would Dean call him when he wanted to drink? Why would he decide to go to the lover he had not spoken to in months instead of his family? Especially when he was the one that had demanded distance and still did not wish to see him.

He knew the other librarians had noticed his lack of concentration today. Cas had already shelved a Tolkien novel in the self-help section and placed a paperback edition of Jekyll and Hyde in the magazine rack. They were not errors he typically made, and they were aware of it.

Martha asked him about it after lunch. She was an older woman, always willing to show pictures of her two young grandsons to anyone even thinking about wanting to look. When hours of a nearly silent, completely distracted Cas had passed, she cornered him in the reference section. After pulling the copy of Harry Potter he was trying to shelve with the foreign language books out of his hand, she pushed him over to one of the chairs they kept around for the students.

"We're worried about you, Castiel. What's gotten you so distracted?" Her motherly tone was enough to distract him from the broken 'yeah' he kept hearing in his head.

He gave a smile and shook his head. "It is not a story you would like to hear."

She dropped her chin and raised her eyebrows, giving a look that Cas was suddenly sure had stopped all of her children from their naughty endeavors. "Try me."

He clenched his jaw. "If I tell you, you will think less of me."

"My oldest daughter runs a nudist colony in Florida and my youngest son brought all five of his lovers to Christmas. Unless you're about to say that you've killed puppies, there's really nothing you could say to make me think less of you."

Surprise at her words snapped him out of his unwillingness to share. "Five?"

She nodded. "Oh, yes. They're polygamists. Christopher, Linda, Delilah, Illiana, Erik, and my Carter."

Cas blinked for a few seconds then shook his head. It did not matter what he thought of that relationship, as it had no effect on him whatsoever. If they were happy, good. "I guess nothing I say would be too surprising or uncomfortable for you, then."

Martha just gave a reassuring smile and settled back into her chair. He ended up telling her everything, from the party before high school graduation to Dean going into rehab. "After rehab, he said he wished to not speak with me until he was ready. That was in the beginning of January. This weekend, he called me. It was the first time I have spoken to him since then. He said that I had to convince him to drink or convince him not to, and so I tried. He did not know about the divorce. And his brother texted me this morning, and I do not understand what he was talking about or why Dean would call me."

"Honey, he probably missed you." Her voice was calm, and she gave him a smile. Cas wanted to say that it was pitying, but if it was, it was not for his situation, only for his lack of intellect. "You were always gone with your wife, but he stuck around so obviously he loves you. But maybe he wanted the space so much because he didn't know you weren't with her anymore. I'm sure he'll still want space, but he probably won't think it's as important as it was before."

Cas's lip twitched up before firmly pointing down. "I do not want to get my hopes up."

"So don't." Her grin was cheeky and Cas was having a bit of a hard time keeping up with her words. Do not get his hopes up but still think that it is a possibility that Dean would want him back soon? She must have seen his confusion. "Don't assume it'll happen, but realize it's a possibility. Now stop moping, books need to be shelved."

With that, she stood and allowed him to go about his business. If a few more books were shelved wrongly, it did not matter. He would be back tomorrow.

As Cas was leaving, Sam walked up the steps. "Hello, Sam."

"Oh, Cas! Hey!" He actually smiled. Cas was not expecting that, even if they had started a truce since Dean had gotten out of rehab. "I was just about to text you."

"What were you going to say?"

"Just that I was going to thank you because Dean came over to my house last night instead of drinking. That's the plan him and his therapist came up with at the clinic, but he hasn't done it before." Pride shined in his eyes. It was refreshing. Before the incident, Cas tended to only see contained frustration when he talked of Dean. "I really only know it's connected to you because I looked at his phone this morning and saw that he'd called you." For a moment, his brow crinkled as he looked at Cas with suspicion. "You didn't make him want to drink in the first place, did you?"

Cas shook his head. "I don't think so. He called and said he needed me to either talk him into drinking, or out of it." He gave a shrug. "I'm honestly surprised that he chose not to drink. I had no idea he didn't know of the divorce."

Sam ran a hand through his hair with an apologetic look. "He wouldn't really listen when I tried to tell him when I dropped him off. Then, he started walking away – or flat out telling people to shut up – when you got brought up, so we didn't really have a chance to make sure he knew."

He must have been obvious in his hurt, because Sam laid a hand on his shoulder. "He asked about it this morning, though. It's not much, but maybe he'll be willing to talk about you soon. Then maybe to talk to you."

This was the longest they had spoken since he had found out about Dean and him. After that, Sam had always had an air of offended dignity that made Cas uncomfortable. He could not understand why now would be the time that things changed. "Why do you care, Sam? I thought you wanted us apart?"

Sam pulled him over to the side of the steps and then sat down. When Cas sat beside him, he gave a smile. "I did. I didn't think you were good for him and I saw how much it tore him apart when you always went back to Meg. You were hurting him, so I kind of started to hate you." He only shrugged when Cas grimaced. "When you offered to pay for the rehab, I wondered why you would bother if you were just going to let things stay the same. I didn't really change my mind 'til you told me you were getting divorced."

Today seemed to be the day of information sharing for Cas. Once again, he started dropping words out of his mouth. "I was going to leave her before, you know. Then I found out she was pregnant and I just could not be my own father."

A look crossed his face that Cas could not decipher. "You really loved him that much?"

"I still do." Cas took a deep breath. "I love him enough to wait. I love him enough to leave him alone, if that's what he wishes." He did not have to mention that it would tear him apart. Sam could see.

"I'll make sure he knows." Sam spoke and then stood, waving and disappearing from view before Cas could respond. He only let himself wonder what he had meant for a few seconds, though. Then, he stood and walked to his car. Standing around here would not do anything for him.


End file.
